


Once... Always...

by EmmyRK



Series: Wacky Drabbles [3]
Category: The Nanny Affair (Visual Novel)
Genre: Cheating, Choices: Stories You Play - Freeform, F/M, Pixelberry, Pregnancy, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, gonorrhea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:22:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyRK/pseuds/EmmyRK
Summary: Wacky Drabbles Prompt #54: "Don't get up. I'll do it."A/N: This takes place 10 years after "the Nanny Affair" (Sam dumps Sofia; Sam marries MC; let the woodland creatures rejoice)
Relationships: Sam Dalton/Main Character (The Nanny Affair)
Series: Wacky Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859050
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Once... Always...

The diagnosis echoes into sterile silence as waves of confusion penetrate the dense exam room. She braces her growing bump with her hand as she cautiously steps down from the frigid table. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head in disbelief. "I have _what?"_ She snatches the lab report from her obstetrician's hands, frantically inspecting the record as her eyes glaze with tears. And there it is, tattooed in black and white:

 ** _Neisseria gonorrhoeae_** . . . . . . . . . . . . . **POSITIVE**

With her quiet, soothing voice, Dr. Ramirez breaks the deafening silence. "Mrs. Dalton, this isn't--"

"' _Brynn_ '." she interrupts with a bite, quickly sighing as if to apologize for her tone. _"Please,_ just call me 'Brynn'." She forces a smile as she glances at the kind-faced brunette, donning a pristine white coat. "If you've been in my vagina, you at least get to call me by my first name."

Her smile is endearing, never faltering despite Brynn's erratic reaction. This is no doubt behavior she has seen before when delivering less-desirable health news. She places a thoughtful hand on Brynn's arm. "Like I was saying, Brynn, this isn't a death sentence. Gonorrhea is a common bacterial infection--"

 _"Sexually_ transmitted disease," Brynn angrily interjects.

"Well, yes, a sexually transmitted _infection_ caused by bacteria that is very treatable." She turns to her open computer to chart as Brynn slumps into a daze. "Do you have any allergies?"

"Um, no, ma'am--but, but is the baby okay?"

The doctor hears the fear dripping in her words. She turns her focus back to a worried mother. "Of course, Brynn," she answers, giving a compassionate nod. "And we want to keep it that way by getting you treated." She returns to typing as Brynn wipes threatening tears from her eyes as she gently massages her abdomen.

"Okay, my nurse will give you a _Rocephin_ shot here in a minute." She scribbles on a notepad before handing Brynn the script. "Here. This is for _Zithromax._ I think that with the _Rocephin_ should be enough."

_"Enough?"_

"Mhmm." Her fingers continue to tap-dance on the keyboard. "I'll need to retest you in two weeks. Let's see here." She scrolls, tapping some more. "Does the twentieth work for you?"

"Um, yes, ma'am." For Brynn, time seems to be ticking by in slow-motion. How is her doctor so nonchalant about this? She might as well be ordering a meal from _McDonald's._ Brynn understands the commonality and the cure-rate are high; but this doesn't happen to women like her, to happily married women like her. _Or d_ _oes it?_

"And why don't we go ahead and do your glucose-tolerance test that day, too? Perfect timing." Brynn slightly nods as Dr. Ramirez closes her computer. "In the meantime," she turns to wash her hands, "You need to talk with Mr. Dalton so he can be tested and treated. It's very important." She dries her hands, grabs Brynn's chart and turns to head to her next appointment. "Remember those kick-counts. Oh, and Brynn?"

"Hrmm?"

"No intercourse until the test of cure."

***********

"How's that baby, Mrs. Brynn?" Carter ushers her carefully into the town car. His bright, cheerful presence jolts her from her cloudy thoughts.

"Couldn't be better, Mr. Carter," she fakes a smile, resting a hand on her belly.

"Have you given it anymore thought?" He gives her a jovial grin, causing her to break into a snicker.

"I haven't discussed it with Sam yet, but in my book, the name 'Carter' is definitely a top contender." After sharing a few chuckles together, per her request, Brynn is taken to the pharmacy to retrieve her medicine.

Before he can assist, she opens the door of the parked car. "Hopefully this won't take too long--" Her breathing becomes labored as she struggles to her feet.

"Mrs. Brynn, please. **Don't get up. I'll do it.** "

"Oh, Mr. Carter, you spoil me. I'm not broken," she continues to gingerly stand with the precious load throwing off her center of gravity. "I'm just seventy-two months pregnant." She jests.

"I insist, ma'am. Here, I'll leave the AC on, and you and little Carter can take a breather." 

She squeezes his hand in thankfulness. "What would I do without you? Thank you."

As she waits at the pharmacy, Brynn decides to Google gonorrhea transmission; there had to be a logical explanation. After all, she and Sam have been blissfully in love for almost ten years; they had celebrated 9 years of marriage in Punta Cana this year, her bump being the souvenir from that excursion. He is her person, her rock. He dotes on her, and surprises her with grand gestures to show he is crazy about her. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if she returned to the office this afternoon to a bouquet of roses as an 'I'm sorry for not being able to attend the appointment'. She is faithful, and she knows he has to be; how did this happen?

_Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt._

"Hey, Cindy, were you able to push that order through?"

Cindy is Brynn's assistant. She is one of the many perks of being appointed the chief operations officer at her husband's young bio-technology firm, one that she helped start during their first year of marriage. They were awarded with the prestigious title as a _Fortune 500 company_ within five years of opening; as a more personal success, their revenue surpassed his family's company and former affiliate _Dalton Enterprises_ within three years. Business couldn't be better for the young Dalton family.

_"Yes, ma'am, the order was placed. And we were able to terminally clean lab 2 and 5."_

She sighs of relief, "That is perfect, Cindy."

_"Was your appointment okay, Mrs. Dalton?"_

"Just fine." She rolls her eyes to herself. "Hey, is Sam out of his meeting yet?"

 _"What meeting?_ "

"The forum? _Schwartz_ and--someone? Oh! _Parker! Schwartz and_ _Parker._ It was supposed to start at nine, but he wasn't sure what time it was going to let out."

"Pardon me, Mrs. Dalton, but I don't know what you're talking about. None of the meeting rooms have been occupied all day." A lump forms in Brynn's throat. "Maybe you are mistaken for another day--" No. She knows it was today. That's why he couldn't come to the appointment. Sweat beads grow on her brow; her breathing begins to quicken.

"You're probably right. Listen, Cindy," she stammers. "I'm not feeling well. Please cancel my 3 o'clock."

"But, Mrs. Dalton--" Brynn hangs up the phone as she begins to dry heave, barely giving her enough time to open the car door to vomit on the pavement.

 _"Mrs. Brynn!_ Oh, Mrs. Brynn!" Fortunately Carter was returning from the shopping trip when she fumbled out the car door. He assists her back into her seat, gently placing a newly-purchased cold can of ginger ale on the back of her neck. "You think we can make it home?"

Her face glistens. She nods gently as she closes her eyes, hoping this is only a side effect of her injection, and not because she now believes her husband is hiding something.

***********

Brynn steps into their penthouse suite, greeted eagerly by three beautiful faces. "Hey, Mom!"

"Hey, Mickey," she kisses her seventeen-year-old stepson's cheek. "Are you guys eating snow cones?"

"I hope you don't mind." continues Mason. "Frost Bite just opened up for summer, so we took Olivia for a treat."

"Not at all." Brynn slinks off her cardigan as she hugs her five-year-old daughter. "Did Dad give you money?"

"Yep," responds Mason nonchalantly.

Brynn faintly hears the water running in her master bath. She freezes. "Is your father _here?"_

They all innocently shrug as Brynn walks through the kitchen towards her bedroom, but stops short of leaving the room. Her smile falls. The dishes from breakfast lay dirty in the sink. With her brows furrowing, she looks around her home. "Where's _Becca?"_

"Dad gave her the day off. She left when we left."

"Your father gave the _nanny_ today off? A day where we desperately needed her help?" Three pairs of the purest eyes stare back at her, unsure of what to say or how to give an answer that their mother wanted, that their mother _needed._

Darkness begins to cloud her vision. Brynn's heartbeat thunders in her ears as an uneasiness infiltrates her nerves. She becomes lightheaded as the room becomes stifling. She balances herself against the wall as she clings tightly to her belly.

" _Mom!_ " A concerned Mason bounds to her side. "Are you okay?"

She whispers softly to him, caressing his face. "I'm fine, baby. Please take your brother and sister to the game room. _Now."_ Without question, he gathers his siblings, retreating from earshot.

Mindlessly massaging her expectant abdomen, she carefully saunters into her bedroom, carefully inspecting her domain. It's perfect. Not a pillow touched. Not a sheet drawn. Everything is exactly as she had left it this morning. She gently drags her fingers across their chest-of-drawers as she steps closer to the bathroom. Something gleams in the light, catching her attention. _Sam's wedding band_. She picks it up, carefully twirling it around her slender fingers as memories of that joyous day floods her mind. But just as they came, they are quickly interrupted by a giggle she recognizes.

She furiously swings open that bathroom door. And there it is: in her own shower, her diagnosis of gonorrhea puts on an artistic display. Instead of swollen genitals, it takes the form of large breasts, pressed against fogged glass by his long, hard girth. Instead of putrid discharge, her husband spills his cum into her from behind. Instead of pain, they both whimper, crying out in breathless ecstasy.

There he is, her faithful, wonderful, and loving husband, Sam Dalton, in a nanny affair. _Again._


End file.
